#been thinking of this image since watching that scene yesterday

[honeybard]

[directdogman]

Hi, I hope you're having a decent day! I'm sorry if this is an invasive set of questions - feel free not to answer - but do you still actively like DSaF as your own creation, or is it more of a "it was fun while it lasted but i outgrew it and it's for the best to leave it behind" kind of project? Do you ever regret making the games? If you knew they would get so popular, is there anything you would have changed about them? Is there anywhere I could read more of your writing.

It fluctuates a bit. These last couple of years, I've really just been sorta nostalgic for it. I've seen a lot of people discuss those games being a source of comfort during bad times in their lives, people talking about how much the characters mean to them and it's hard not to smile when you see that.

It's a funny thing for close friends of yours to see people WITH fanmade DSaF merch out in the wild, or to watch a random youtube video and being hit with a DSaF reference outta nowhere. It happens from time to time, even today. On a few occasions, I've even had a person reference my work to me in real life and not realize who they were talking to, believe it or not. It's really fun to play dumb and get someone to explain your work to you like you don't know what it is.

I certainly didn't think any of that would happen when I first made the series, or even during development. I think the normal assumption would be to look at DSaF as it exists now and assume its release was a peak for it, but believe it or not, the official discord only had 30 people in it shortly before 3 dropped! The archive listing of the series (reposted to a single page after the series ended) is now sitting at over 1.1 MILLION downloads.

People kinda assume the true heyday of something is when it's new, when it's fresh and novel. For instance, some people look back at when FNaF itself was new and see that time as its peak because it had a lot of internet cultural relevance as big new indie thing on the block. But, raw numbers don't lie. The series has been continually growing since its conception and that growth has similarly bled over to its fan projects. This explains why DSaF, despite not having a new series release in almost 6 years, seems to be inexplicably growing.

Just recently, I saw someone post footage of a scene from DSaF 2 on Twitter, which got over 16k likes. People praised its writing and largely celebrated the scene. The ironic thing about that particular scene is that I remembered being unsure if it was good or not, so I showed it off in one of the FNaF community hubs. The response was broadly lukewarm to negative. Now, it's held up as one of the best scenes in those games. That's kind of the point I'm trying to make, my thoughts on the series have certainly changed with everyone's else with years of hindsight.

Heh. I'm not sure if I've talked about this in a long time, but y'know, the very first scene I implemented in-game was actually the very first Phone Guy scene in DSaF 1, more or less exactly how it appears in-game today. This was before I'd even written the bulk of the game. I was pretty unfamiliar with visual novels as a whole, pretty unsure if something like this would be palatable to a fandom that was really just used to sit 'n' survive stuff that were far more gameplay than text. I mean, there wasn't any FNaF fangames really LIKE DSaF before that point. Closest was FNaFb, a jokey turn based RPG made in the same engine.

The engine I made the game in is also not exactly fit for VNs out of the box either, and I wasn't 100% sure the idea would actually work. But, the very first time I added the image of the prize corner, Phone Guy, the audio of that iconic cheesy stock track and booted up a test screen, I had a little moment where I said "Oh. I think I'm onto something interesting here." I kinda remembering instantly realizing in that single moment how much potential the idea had. Over 8 years later, I still remember that moment like it was yesterday.

I think lately, that's the sort of stuff I think of when I see people coming to me and asking about the series. Yes, it's really rough around the edges, yes, there's jokes that've aged poorly. But, it is a source of comfort for people and entertains tens of thousands of people each month. And that's gotta count for something, right?

[burgerrat]

Ok so @king-crawler technically I finished your 2 hour Turbo documentary yesterday at 3 AM BUT regardless I have recentlt watched it and I have a LOT I'd like to say, clarify details or lil things you might have missed or could be interpreted differently when you look at them another way :3

With that last bit I am diving head first into the flashback scene since it's heavily referencing that.

First and foremost, keep in mind that it is being narrated from Felix's point of view- remember that he was in his game doing his job when the accident happened, it was while every person ever was inside their respective game being busy being used as avatars; also referencing back what you said on Felix- he's not exactly the most understanding of others' situations, he stays well within his comfort zone. Keep that in mind.

When Roadblasters is plugged in the flashback, you can see the two players using TurboTime immediately abandon the game to check out the new one, and the screen Turbo's pixelated image apoears on is completely dark, don't you think that is very reminiscent of a Game Over screen? 🙃 meaning, the two players abandoned Turbo in the middle of a race, likely causing him to crash and lose.

Remember King Candy's shock, and sudden change in behaviour as soon as he sees Vanellope sprinting past him? What follows is a volatile fit of rage and violence when things don't go his way, this sudden change of trajectory. Wouldn't you reckon this moment could mirror how Turbo felt in the flashback? He's being used as an avatar, and suddenly he loses control as he gets ditched and gets his race put to a halt. That initial shock of "what is going on. This wasn't supposed to happen!"

Following that, while I don't doubt he got jealous, he SPRINTED into Roadblasters the moment he lost... but not to try to take it over- to take petty revenge instead, interrupting the players' race and causing them to crash just like they did to him, preventing him from winning in his game. Picture it as a "if I can't have this, then you won't have it either" type mentality towards Roadblasters.

Going back to Felix and why his ignorance/remaining within his bubble could have possibility caused him to misread Turbo's intentions. Felix also is one to make assumptions in the beginning of the movie, like how for example when trying to calm the Nicelanders when Ralph goes missing: "Ralph probably fell asleep in Tapper's bathroom again!" Or some such. It makes sense he would make assumptions about Turbo as well, ESPECIALLY if he knew him personally and how self-obsessed he is. Doesn't take a genius to realize this guy does not like to lose.

Secondly, the final boss scene. King Candybug in general really. I disagree with your idea that Turbo has always been this hungry for power he'd want to take over the entire arcade. We both know that if that happened, if every game was infested by Cy-bugs, Litwak would be forced to close down his business because all of the games would be unplayable. His 'attention' wouldn't last very long if every game gets unplugged, his thought process to take over the arcade is purely manic and deranged for someone like him who has been well-known to be a master manipulator, able to keep a stable facade for over a decade without wanting to take over other racing games? That 'taking over the arcade' sounds very unlike him. It sounds more like... a cy-bug's programming. A cy-bug's programming that has gained enough conciousness to start plotting and planning. Because it now has the intelligence of a person, fused with him, learned what he knows.

Speaking of which, remember the cybug that ate King Candy?

Look at it's candy-pattern. Haven't we seen that somewhere before...?

Oh right! Right here, when the cybug eats some pepperming roots.

The same cybug that ended up there after falling into the taffy lake... after being ejected from a shuttle.

The same cybug that Ralph brought with himself.

What was the very first thing that King Candybug said to ralph when they see eachother again for the showdown?

"Because of you, Ralph, I'm now the most powerful virus in the arcade!"

I don't think, during this one moment at least, that this was Turbo speaking.

[trixy812]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ You have all my support ɞ˚‧｡⋆ pt 2

{Nanami Kento x reader}

ִֶָ࣪☾. Content: kento nanami x reader, just fluff, comfort, friends to lovers, nightmare, digimon mentioned!, i really think nanami looks at memes like parents look at memes xdxd (don't forget we are in year 2007ish)

ִֶָ࣪☾. Summary: It was inevitable. Kento Nanami and you became friends.

ִֶָ࣪☾. AN: Hello! I bring you guys part two, I took longer than I expected. Yesterday, I had a very calm nightshift and decided to finally write this second part, i really liked how it turn out. I really want to encourage you all to leave comments because that would help me a lot now that I'm just starting to write! extra: i really want to thank my twiniieee @totallygyomeiswife because she helped to organize my thought and how i want this fic to keep going.

Edit: I noticed some inconsistencies so, I corrected few words & numbers! Thank you again for reading 📚 I am excited to keep writing this 🥰

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4

Reader meets Gojo

It’s been several months since Haibara’s death, and while Nanami remains the serious, reserved man everyone knows, something has subtly changed in him. In these past months, he’s allowed himself to trust you, finding quiet comfort in your friendship. You've always been there for him, offering support without demands or expectations. Yet Haibara’s memory still casts a long shadow, and sometimes his dreams dredge up painful scenes, reminding him of everything he's lost.

One night, after an especially vivid nightmare where he relives those haunting images of Haibara, Nanami wakes up, gasping for air. Without thinking, he picks up his phone and sends you a message:

Are you awake?

Your response comes almost immediately.

Of course! I’m always awake. You couldn’t sleep again, could you?

Despite the lingering weight of his nightmare, Nanami can’t help but smile slightly.

Do you ever actually sleep?

It’s my superpower! you reply, adding a sunglasses emoji.

Just as he’s about to put his phone down, he sees a notification from you—an image attachment. Curious, he opens it to see a meme of a concerned-looking dog, accompanied by the huge caption: “Your life is as worrisome as my face!” Nanami frowns, confused by the image.

Whose dog is that? he asks.

That doesn’t matter! Just laugh! It’s funny, right?

It seems we have different definitions of funny, he replies, teasing you. But he’s unable to stop himself from smiling, finding a strange comfort in your lightheartedness, and grateful for the brief escape from his thoughts.

Later that day, the two of you meet up at an arcade. You've set your sights on a claw machine with a Palmon plush, and after several failed attempts, you’re determined to get it. The lights and sounds around you barely register; all your attention is on the machine and on winning that Palmon.

Nanami watches from behind, arms crossed, his expression showing his skepticism. “Are you seriously going to keep going? You’ve already spent 3,000 yen. This is ridiculous.”

Without looking away from the machine, you throw him a quick glance. “Yes! I need it. Palmon is beautiful, and I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t win it.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, doubtful. “Is it really that important?”

“Obviously!” You pout, looking at him with that mix of determination and stubbornness he’s come to recognize. That blend of energy and defiance stirs something in him, and he blurts out a suggestion he hadn’t even thought through

“Come study with me at Jujutsu High.”

The proposal surprises both of you, and you stop playing for a moment, though you keep your hand firmly on the joystick to hold your spot. Smiling, you look at him with a mix of affection and amusement.

“That’s not going to happen. I’ll never be a sorcerer. Not even you could change my mind, Nanami.”

A faint blush rises to your cheeks as you say his name, wondering if you’ve let slip too much. You seem about to say something more, but he interrupts, his voice soft and sorrowful.

“I’m alone now. I was left alone”

His words strike you, and though you want to tell him how much he means to you, how you've had a crush on him for months now but you know it’s not the right moment. He’s still too vulnerable, and you wouldn’t want to take advantage of that. Instead, you try to lighten the mood.

“My dad always used to say, ‘You go to school to study, not to make friends,’” you say, imitating your father’s voice and holding a finger under your nose as if you had a mustache. Nanami watches, but the sadness doesn’t leave his gaze.

Finally, you look him in the eyes, speaking with quiet sincerity. “You have all my support, Nanami. You know that, right?”

Nanami meets your eyes, and for a moment, his expression softens, the sadness easing a little. “Thank you,” he murmurs, and you notice a hint of peace behind his smile.

“After school, you probably have homework, just like me,” you suggest, taking a breath. “How about you come to my house every day after classes, and we do it together? Studying will be easier if we have each other’s company.”

Nanami looks at you, a bit taken aback by the suggestion, but he finds himself surprisingly comforted by the idea. Even though he knows your schoolwork might be very different from his own, the thought reassures him.

“And what about your hospital volunteering? Don’t you have to go?” he asks, concern creeping into his voice.

You wave his concern off. “I’ll do it on weekends. There are fewer people, and I can hide what I’m doing more easily. Don’t worry.” You think to yourself that you will have to do an extra year of volunteering because you are going to reduce your hours a week, but it doesn't bother you at all.

Nanami nods, and without another word, he steps toward the claw machine, nudging you aside gently. Reaching into his pocket, he inserts 100 yen. And as the good sorcerer he is, it looks like magic, the claw captures the Palmon on the first try.

As soon as you see the plush descending, you let out a shout of pure joy, bouncing with excitement. Nanami pulls it from the machine and hands it to you.

“Thank you so much, Kento!” you exclaim, hugging the plush tightly, and realizing, as your face flushes, that you’ve called him by his first name.

Nanami blinks, surprised, but then he smiles, seeing you so happy. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of Haibara in your lively expression, just like that day when you met, and the thought fills him with an unexpected peace.

“So, what time should I be coming to your house to keep up with your ‘plan’?” he asks, his tone faintly teasing.

Unable to help it, your smile grew even wider, thrilled to have the Palmon in your hands, happy that Nanami won it for you, ecstatic because you know you'll see him more often, just as you've dreamed awake before going to sleep, you respond, “Let’s meet at Akihabara station after school, and then we can go together. Does that sound good?”

Nanami nods, satisfied with the plan. “Perfect.” With a slight blush, he murmurs almost to himself, but just loud enough for you to hear, “Keep calling me Kento.”

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4

Reader meets Gojo

[jmdbjk]

Bangtan weekly report...

I wanted to do a Bangtan weekly report. Since January 15. But between real life and complete disinterest over what's been on the timeline I just haven't had the time or desire.

But, nevertheless, we press on.

I love IU's song and the MV starring Tae. He did really good. I've watched all the behind the scenes, hers and his.

The account on Instagram called @ rpwprpwprpwp (how do you pronounce that rr-pwip rr-pwip rr-pwip?) keeps posting images of Namjoon and now there are theories that the images are representative of each song from his next album. We wait(TM).

Everyday, hoping Namjoon and Tae are doing well in their assigned posts.

And hoping Jimin and Jungkook are doing all right. Thanking the universe everyday that they have each other to fall back on. I wonder if Jimin's love for snow will somewhat be tempered a little after this winter and next...

The Standing Next to You Usher remix behind the scenes videos were fun. I'm glad JK had the opportunity to work with Usher. I know the experience meant a lot to him. I miss his lip rings. He told Polyc he'd be considering a new tattoo when he was discharged. Can't wait...

I hope Yoongi is doing something he can at least consider is worthwhile. Just a tiny hint of what he's doing would be awesome but I understand if we never get that until he's discharged.

Excitedly anticipating Jin's discharge, as well as Hobi's. Jin's message yesterday was nice and now that we're about 4 months away from his discharge, I think about what might have been going through his mind at the time he recorded these messages. Hobi just graduated another bunch of new soldiers and will get some time off. Maybe we'll see him out and about on his Instagram this week.

For now, laying here, no thoughts/head empty.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 26

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4.1k

IMPORTANT a/n: Hi... I said that if the Celtics won I'd post tonight so ya know! Here it is hehe. LETS GO CELTICS

Finally used the scene in Season 1 episode 5 of Narcos of Javi and Murphy in the car. There's a lot of perspective change in this one, this section will be like this most the time just because are characters are so far apart!

Ok bye enjoy

New Orleans 1988

“Do you remember being sixteen?”

You cackle, playing with the golden bee at your lobe, looking up at your student Chiron. He had been eating his lunch in your classroom for about two months since, the cafeterias ac is shit, his words. You dig into the cake your students bought you, they thought you would cancel their monday practice quiz with a little birthday celebration. They were greatly mistaken. 

Today you're twenty-four. Everytime you think of it your brain freezes.

 You remember being sixteen like it’s yesterday. You nod, washing down the store bought dry red velvety mess with water. “Yes. It sucked.”

Chiron laughs just the same, opening the pink milk box on his tray. “When were you sixteen? In 1950?”

You stare at him with your most deadpan look, shaking your head. “I turned sixteen in 1980. I was living in Laredo, Texas and I spent my birthday alone. I received flowers from my… friend and my mom took me dress shopping two days later. What was yours like?” 

You and Chiron talk every day. You know he lives in a group home, you know he gets excited when he gets asked about his own life and even more excited when someone shares stories about theirs. He reminds you everyday that you want to have a son one day, you guess you’ll tell him when he's older. Hopefully then you could introduce your son to him and have a laugh about it. 

Teaching has given you a purpose. Being away from home has given you a purpose. Knowing no one has given you a purpose. You tell him stories all the time, you’re going to sob when he walks across that stage in May. 

“I went to the arcade with Teresa.” Teresa has been his girlfriend since the ninth grade, she went to St. Mary’s. They met doing community service and Chiron knows that they're going to be married. “She bought me this chain with her paycheck from Rouses. Are you doing anything for your birthday?”

You look at the picture of your little sister and niece sat up on her desk. Little three year old Sol holding Frankies babygirl Annie. “I still don’t know anyone out here but my coworkers so I’ll probably order in, watch Dirty Dancing and wait for a call from my brother.” You think of Javier for a moment, wondering if he knows today's your birthday. 

You wonder if you have crossed his mind. 

You saw him in the paper when you went home for christmas, you didn't visit your mother. 

You went home to simply spoil the babies at Frankie's house. You drove right back to your third floor apartment in Nola. Cried into your pillow until you slept and did it all over again for three more nights. Chiron nods, you have told him small stories about your life because he loves to listen. You’re weary of sharing too much, only offering bits you know will make him feel seen. You let him cry when he said he tried to meet his father during Christmas break and he didn’t show. That's when you decided to tell him about your first trip to New Orleans. 

Chiron frowns and sips his milk. He just got a haircut, flat top style, he had been growing his hair out the whole year for it. “Do you think Javier will call you?”

You smile at Chiron. He had been trying to pry information about your former lover for weeks. It all started after Christmas break when he cried about his father. You told him that family can be found anywhere, that your only family for a bit was your best friend who happened to be your boyfriend. 

“Do you live with Javier now?”

You shook your head, “He moved away for work.” Nearly a lie, you didn’t feel it was appropriate to tell your seventeen year old student the painful details of your life. 

Chiron went quiet for a few seconds, his face going inward. Eyes shy and sad, it happens every time he’s asked about his parents.

“So who is your family now?”

Andrea drops her keys on her kitchen counter being greeted by tiny tweets. She grins from ear to ear, placing her purse down on the couch. Walking to her cage, the two birds chirped.

 “Are you singing Happy Birthday to me?” She gets on her tiptoes, offering her fingers to the babies, they take the chance. “Thank you, mommy’s going to watch Dirty Dancing because she’s lonely. Okay?”

She brings Jewel to her face in a phantom kiss while Harvey finds sanctuary on her shoulder. 

She always wanted pets but her mother never allowed it. The second Andrea put down her deposit for her apartment, she hopped in her car and bought two blue budgies. They nipped and scurried away from her each time she approached them but after two months of persistence they finally warmed up to her. They’re now her best friends. She’s become a crazy bird lady. Just in September she left a date abruptly because she realized she hadn't fed them in a day and a half. Its safe to say she didn’t get a call back from Mr. Henning.

She sits on her couch after loading the VHS and yawning. Her birdies flying back to their cage. 

That was the summer of 1963 - when everybody called me Baby, and it didn't occur to me to mind.

At 6pm she receives a call. Her heart sinks and for a moment she thinks, maybe.

But ultimately she knows not to be so silly, she knows she needs to be angry with him but she doesn’t have it in her anymore. She unravels herself from the nest she’s made on her couch and tip toes on the hardwood floor to her home phone. 

She spoke to Genie this morning, receiving a happy birthday song from her brother and their baby’s incoherent babbles. They say little Annie is upset that Tia Andrea lives so far. 

“Hello?” Andrea shushes her birds, they love to chirp when she’s on the phone. 

“Happy Birthday Andrea,”

 And she knows Don Chuchos voice anywhere. 

Andrea closes her eyes at the sound. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever and she’s riddled with grief at the sound of his voice after nearly two years. 

“Thank you Chucho.” Andrea remembers the way he looked at her when she sat in the blistering heat on Javier’s wedding day. He looked at her knowingly, he could see that beyond the made up face she was on the brink of a breakdown. “How’s everything back home?” 

“You would know if you stopped by to see me last month.”

She winces. When Andrea came home for Christmas she made it her business to be seen by no one. Especially anyone who knew anything about Javi. 

She was finally feeling better. 

Everything was out in the open now, everyone knew their business. The scandal blew through town, she had to leave.

“I know, I'm sorry. I’m just still working through everything that happened. I knew if I stopped by your house it would bring up old memories.” Since Andrea moved to New Orleans she has gone back to Laredo five times. Two of the times she visited her mother, every other time was a straight shot to Frankie’s home. Calling him to make sure he takes Sol for the day so Andrea could see her too. She would spend two lovely nights on their plush couch and drive home the next day. 

Through the crackle of the receiver Chucho hums in understanding. 

In a twisted way Andrea always wanted him to be her father. She loved the idea of marrying Javier for more reasons than one. She wanted to officially be a part of his tiny family she loved so deeply. 

“Would this be a bad time to talk about him?” 

Andrea, the despondent girl. A girl alone, leaning against her lonely walls, a girl belonging to no one. Is a girl who cannot resist hearing about the one she loved. 

Loves. 

“Yes.” She allows it. He complies because she knows he must have no one to talk to about this. 

“He told me last week that he’s seeing a specialist—therapist, once a week.”

She smiles. She remembers the last time they had sex they talked about reaching out for help. She supposes it’s her turn. 

“That’s- I'm relieved to hear that. Is he doing okay out there?” 

Andrea has a reoccurring nightmare. She’s walking to work, the heat is brutal and her hands are full of groceries. In her nightmare, one of the bags rip open, fruit falling on the concrete. Every time, she follows an apple that rolls until it hits a news stand. And there—there she sees his face. There she reads his public obituary, the slain American agent. There she dissolves to nothing and wakes up crying harder than she ever has. She cried until she felt like dissolving into nothing. 

“He spares me details that would send me into a stroke but you know. It’s very dangerous work but he’ll make it back home in one piece. He’s too stubborn to die young.” 

Her eyes flicker to the ground and her chin quivers at his words. “Do you miss him?” Is all she can mutter. She cannot be alone in this feeling. She doesn’t like to feel this way. She liked to believe that she gets along without him well, but sometimes the wind blows and it reminds her of summer nights in his bed and she isn’t sure she could go on lying to herself.

Chucho sighs, “He misses you.” He doesn’t answer your question. He knows what you wanted to ask. “He doesn’t tell me because he’s afraid, but every conversation I can hear it in his voice. He is still grieving being away from you, still grieving being deceived. I know you are too. But I wanted to call to tell you that he is okay. I want you to be okay too, Andrea.”

January 1988 Bogota, Colombia

There isn't much work being done. Scoping out for a sicario in a hundred degree weather wasn't ideal but it left some time for beers and ramblings. Murphy dug his hand into the cup holder for another sip of Club Colombiano. “So what year was this?” Murphy looks over to Javi. It had been almost a week since he last saw Hertz. His next session is in two days. He found himself walking with less weight. He even finally told Murphy the name of the girl whose picture is taped on the corner of his desk.

“1986” Javier rasps. “I was driving to the church. I was with my buddy Frankie. He was my best man.” He nearly whispers the last bit. “We were late. It was fucking blazing, 110 degrees. The whole bridal party was there sweating their balls off I’m sure. Frankie is shaking like a leaf next to me, like he’s fucking getting married. Looking for a lighter for a joint he rolled. Mind you, we're been in my bride's car since she arrived in a limousine.”

“Don’t tell me you left her at the altar.”

Javier deadpans, “Let me finish my story.” Murphy chuckles, pressing the cold beer to his neck. “He opens the glove compartment and some papers fall into his lap. And boom, we hit a traffic jam. Frankie, my best man, being the nosy fuck he his opens up the papers. He goes, three months pregnant as of June 6th, can't believe we’re both having kids. I swear to god–”

“No!” Murphy gasps.

“Yeah, Lorraine, the bride, and I hadn’t had sex since February of that year. She was showing a lot, I never thought twice when she told me she was five months along.” Murphy is staring at him like this was the juiciest television worthy story ever told. Javier looks blankly into the rolling hills of Colombia wondering why this happened to him. “I had dropped everything in my life to rush into a loveless marriage for the convenience of a family that wasn't even mine.” His eyes cast low and he feels sick. “So I turned the car around. And Andrea was there waiting to watch me marry someone else. In the heat.”

Murphy rarely knew who Andrea was other than the pretty ex-girlfriend whose picture is taped on his desk; he didn’t tell him too much. The story is enticing, he supposes. Exhilarating from the outside.

Murphy grins, “Well, you saved her a lifetime of hell.” 

He knows it’s true, his inner monologue being spat right back in his face yet he can’t seem to swallow that reality. He's a weak man, he hoped that Murphy would tell him he was wrong, that he needed to get up on a plane this instant and find his girl.

He’s silent for a moment. “Yeah, she never spoke to me again, Andrea I mean. She’ll probably be married to a-a stock broker or some shit when I come home.” If I come home, he intends to say but decides maybe this wasn’t the moment. “Trust me, she’s better off.”

“I told my partner, Steve Murphy, about the wedding.”

“That's amazing, Javier.” She sits back down in her brown leather chair, sipping her tea from her small yellow thermo. “How did you feel afterward?” Javier went home to drink himself to sleep. He decides to keep that detail to himself, before reaching forward to sip water instead of fulfilling his urge to light up.

“I felt like I’ve taken some sort of step forward. Then I remembered how it was telling Andrea. Then I felt like I regressed once again, I didn't wake up for work the next morning. This Tuesday I mean.” She’s taking it all in, yet something i n her twinkles. He sees her satisfaction, she knows this is a shy way of telling her he’s ready to talk about it again. Things are changing for him so quickly.

“We were cut for time last week.”

“We were.”

“So,”

“So.” Javier's eyes jet to the plush rug below him. “I walked to her house the night I agreed to marry Lorraine.”

June 18th 1986

He stopped by The Tap before strolling his way into your neighborhood. Sitting on a barstool like he would do back in High School, eyes peeled to the door wondering if his mother would miraculously walk in. This time he doesn’t drink so much, he pushes three beers back and feels sad enough to see you. Sad enough to break your heart. Liquid courage? Is that what they call it? He feels a buzz in his spine.

Somehow he ends up at your door. 

 “Javi, are you alright? It's late.” You whisper, closing the front door behind you. It reminds him of the time he walked to your house after getting wasted. Catching you in Cabaret makeup, you turning bright red under white paint. 

This time you’re bare faced and so much more of a woman. Javier studies you in a buzzed haze, you’re concerned and it’s pissing him off. There you are, barefoot on your porch. Caught off guard and still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. You step down one step. He wants to drop to his knees and apologize. 

You sense his sorrow so you step back up to be near to his height, placing your hands on his face. Holding his face, “Baby, are you okay?” He knows your worried little face, he knows that somehow in that brain of yours—you’re conspiring what you could have done wrong. Yet it’s never you, it’s always him. You’ve never done wrong.

“Hey…” You whisper, attempting to soothe his quivering chin with a kiss. 

He looks away. Looking into your eyes will kill him. Rejecting your kiss all together. “I’m sorry.” Javier’s voice breaks, and he isn’t embarrassed but he wants to die. He wants it to end because he feels your body go cold without even having to look at you. He’s crying and hiding his face, holding you close and hard. Sobbing into your chest, staining your gray shirt like you did his when he left the first time. “I’m so sorry—I knew I wouldn’t be right for you—Querida, I’m sorry.”

----

He crushes your body with his. He’s muttering words about a wedding, a pregnancy and you’re being crushed. You’re losing air and you hope he squeezes you tighter, hope your eyes fog and you fall. 

Hope to wake up in a cold sweat, and it's all a bad dream. Hope to call him to hang out at the lake.  

He’s crying, and its the worst sound you’ve ever heard. Saying he didn’t mean to become a father. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. He doesn’t know why he hurts you. He says he doesn’t want to be married to her. Calling you sweet names and cursing his own. 

You tell him over and over that it’s okay. Yet you hope he crushes you until you disappear.

 “It’s okay—Javi please, it’s okay— I understand.” You run a hand through his hair and lower your bodies to sit on the steps. It’s 2 am. He’s drunk and unable to give you details without crying in your lap now but you know all that you need to know.

When you saw her—Lorraine. When you saw her wide nose and round little belly you felt fear running through your veins. And you slept with that panic, you dismissed it but your bones felt it. Your intuition told you that the two of you will never be the same. You saw him stare at her belly for a second too long and there—right there— you knew you were in the way of something. 

Eventually he feels okay enough to sit up straight. He still can’t look at you and you miss him in your lap when he does. You miss being able to hide yourself from him. You miss being able to shut your eyes in agony at each word of consolation. Now he can see you, even if he doesn’t look you in the eye he can see you. 

You’re able to understand that she’s five months, that they gave him a choice. To never see her and his child, child— his child— or get married. Through it all you tell him it’s okay. 

“I don’t think I have another choice— I can’t be.-“

“A deadbeat.” You finish for him and he doesn’t respond. The two of you have a million unspoken words between the two of you. 

Look at me, look at what happens when you abandon your child. Look what girls like me put up with. Look at me, you hurt me and I'm still thinking of ways to make it work in my broken little brain. 

He knows what his mother did, how could he ever? How? So you could never find it in you to be angry. 

“I’m sorry— I just can’t.” 

You shut your eyes and lean back into the steps of your home. The sky was bright that night, you couldn’t understand why the universe still presented its beauty during such a moment. 

“When will you get married?” You suppose maybe you like to hurt yourself. 

“They said two weeks.” 

You drop your head into your hands and let out a sob. Heart slamming against your ribs, drowning in it. You fear that you’ll become one with earth, a puddle seeping into the grass ahead of you. You feel his panic next to you. He’s whispering your name, and tearing against the back of your head. Your shoulders wrack and you try to speak.

But you decide silence is all you can handle.

So you stay like this for a few minutes.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” You ask finally, pathetically. 

And he’s quick to nod, “Yes—please.” His deep voice sends a vibration down your spine. And the two of you walk into your home, without fear—no room for such a silly feeling. 

He undresses and you do too. 

He faces the ceiling and you fear neither of you will catch any hours tonight. You still curl into his chest, for the last time. Feeling his warm tan skin below your ear. You count his heartbeats for minutes at a time. You count your own, attempting to make it stop on your own. Your stomach hurts so badly, you may cry just from that. But you think that you’re a twenty two year old woman who is somehow all cried out. You think of the sun coming up and him getting up to leave, you wonder what the next two weeks will look like. 

You’re sure that if you could you’d stay just like this, together and avoidant until it’s time. Just like you planned a week ago when your only fear was him leaving to Colombia. 

You know he’d do the same because the two of you love pain like no other. You stay in your inferno of a brain for nearly an hour. You know he can’t sleep. 

“What are we going to do?” He asks and you frown. 

“Go our separate ways.”

“I don’t want to.” He’s quick to respond, angry.

“I know.”

“Do you want to?”

“No. But I have to. You have to.” 

“As long as I know you, I'll want you, Andrea.”

You shut your eyes and breathe. You hope he forgets you. You hope you can. You suppose you have to try. 

“After the wedding, I don’t think I’ll ever want to speak to you again.”

You feel him intake a shaky breath. Your heart breaks again. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

His chest rises, “It’s okay. I understand.” You nod, the post of the earrings he bought you scraping his skin. “We probably shouldn’t see each other after today.” He admits and you know he’s right.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I could be a bridesmaid?” You attempt to joke and he doesn’t laugh. You can’t tell what he does but he shivers. 

“Not funny.” 

“I’m sorry.” You exhale. And there the two of you are pensive. Already missing each other. 

He sighs and it's silent once more. “I really love you.”

You sigh just the same and you love him more. You decide you couldn’t say it out loud this time.

Colombia 1988

His elbow is rested on the arm of the chair and his mouth is pressed to a fist. Eyes closed for a few moments. He thinks of the silence of that night, how he hasn't heard you say I love you since. The words that kept him going, but fuck it, he didn’t feel like he deserved it. He made their life such a mess, over and over again. Again his brain regresses to that of a child, of his own head when he was eleven, when he tore up his mothers room and stained her poetry with his tears. 

He has spent two years suffering, he knows there will be no winning. He lost you. He came here prematurely hoping to win in some way. To bring some good, save some people but he realized there's no winning here either. Just suffering and corruption. The longer he watches people die he swears his faith chips slowly with it.

So he looks over his shoulder once or twice when he leaves his session. There were very few words spoken by Dr. Hertz but what can you do when his story silences so many?

He wishes it could silence his own thoughts but instead it festers and crowds his brain in the most crucial moments. Like when he led a raid in a bar in Medellin and swore the woman who sat at the bar with a gun to her head was you. In genuine panic he freezes, the casualties raised from 24 to 25 at that moment. All because of you—him—all because of his thoughts of you, plaguing him.

And he thinks of you in the most insignificant moments. Insignificant like burying himself deep in the cunt of a woman who’s being paid. He thinks of you and can't keep it up from the guilt. What a curse it is to feel so deeply about someone. 

He remembers once, you lie beside him half asleep and mumbling like you did after sex. You said that sometimes love scares you so much that for a time you wished to never feel it. He thought of you so crazy, he fears he understands you now. 

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part Eleven)

Just a small note, I’ve been kinda wanting to add dress reference pictures, so I decided to just link some stuff and describe my personal modifications. But feel free to envision the dresses however you want! Ultimately I’m just trying to provide some Tyrell flair for y’all🫶

ALSO! I wrote the dance scene with Waltz No. 2 in mind if you guys want something to picture it with :)

WARNINGS: Death, poisoning

—————

Margaery’s wedding had finally arrived, and it had been a week and a half since I’d kissed Tywin Lannister for the first time.

Since then, we’d both grown naturally busy with wedding planning and such, and so I hadn’t seen much of him. Though, the most recent encounter we’d had made my heart race.

We’d seen each other while walking in the halls, and I’d smiled at him. Nobody else had been around, and so he smiled back. Not only that, but he reached for my arm and pulled me in, kissing me passionately before instantly continuing on to wherever he’d been going. I had stood there speechless, shocked, and overjoyed for quite some time. Tywin Lannister certainly knew how to make a woman’s heart pound.

But I felt excited, as I knew I’d see plenty of him today at the wedding. And gods, now that I knew he reciprocated my feelings, I somehow found myself trying even harder to dress nicely. I was wearing a cream dress that had pink, blue, and green flowers all along the skirt, with the fabric at the top merely going up and over my chest in two wide pieces of fabric. It left a gap between my breasts, and highlighted the gorgeous necklace I was wearing.

It was a necklace that had appeared in my room during the last week, and I knew it was not from any of my family, for they most assuredly would’ve asked how I like it. I had a feeling Tywin hoped to see me wear it today.

“(Y/N), come and stop fixing your dress, Lord Tywin will think it looks nice no matter what. We’ll go together, I want to get there early,” my grandmother remarked, watching me adjust my dress in the mirror. I sighed, shaking my head.

“You need to leave me alone about Lord Tywin, I’ll continue to insist that there’s nothing between us,” I lied, though knowing she was right about not needing to keep fixing the gown.

“If you say so, dearest.”

The ride to the sept was uneventful, besides my grandmother commenting that if Tywin complained about the decorations she’d smack him over the head. That image had truly made me laugh.

When we arrived though, it was so extravagant I honestly wouldn’t have blamed Tywin for being upset.

The inside was already filled with hundreds of people, many that I’d met and more that I hadn’t. It never ceased to make me wonder how many truly ‘noble’ people existed.

However, there was only one I was searching for, and I felt content upon seeing him. Tywin was in a black coat that had golden lion designs at the bottom of the coat and on the lapel of it. He looked as wealthy as he was.

My grandmother and I made our way to the front of the sept, and she of course noticed me staring at Tywin.

“Oh go on then, go and talk to him. You’re annoying to be around when you haven’t,” she teased, scoffing as I laughed and walked over to him.

“Hello, Lord Tywin,” I greeted as I came up behind him, placing a hand on his back. He turned toward me and gave me his ‘look.’

“Lady (Y/N), you look lovely,” he said with a gentle nod.

“And you look quite handsome, Lord Tywin.”

“Thank you.”

We couldn’t hold back our smiles anymore.

“Tywin, my father received a letter yesterday. Do you want to guess what it said?” I asked, raising both of my eyebrows at him. He only raised one in return, which meant he was just waiting for me to get it out.

“Walder Frey wrote that his eldest son died of what the maesters think was a ‘heart attack’ but aren’t sure, and that he can no longer marry me. The next oldest son he has is only five,” I said with a smile, knowing all too well what had happened.

Tywin looked around, and then let his thumb and pointer finger come to my chin.

“I told you I’d never let another man have you, didn’t I?” He whispered, leaning in towards my ear. I felt my face go hot, as I certainly was not used to having anyone be so protective—or possessive—of me.

“I didn’t doubt you, Tywin.”

“Good. That’s the last thing you should ever do.”

—————

Tywin and Olenna found themselves walking together after the ceremony, and just as Olenna had expected, Tywin had done nothing but complain about needing to spend his money on it.

“People who spend their money on this sort of nonsense tend not to have it for very long,” he commented, shaking his head at her.

“You ought to try enjoying something before you die, you might find it suits you,” Olenna shot back, making him laugh.

“Ha! And what do you suggest I try enjoying?” He asked sarcastically, finding the conversation to be relatively useless and bothersome. He was grateful that conversations with you were never this bothersome. Though, there was some measure he enjoyed when talking to the Queen of Thorns. At least she wasn’t stupid like nearly everyone else he knew.

“My granddaughter, for a start,” she said, not one for holding back.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me correctly, Lord Tywin.”

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Lady Olenna, but frankly I find it to be offensive. Your granddaughter is a lovely woman, however-“

“Oh Lord Tywin, please. I know my granddaughter well, and she’s not acted this way with a man ever in her life. And, I know men like you well. It’s all politics for you, which means that if you have such a fondness for my granddaughter, it’s more than a ‘friendship.’”

“Lady Olenna, I respect you, however, I have no romantic feelings towards your granddaughter, nor will I,” he lied, wondering if she’d let him get away with it. No was probably to be the answer.

“My granddaughter sounds just like you. Perhaps if I was stupider I’d let it be and accept that you two are not harboring anything, however, I know what lies sound like on a man’s tongue, Tywin. This was fun at first, but be honest with me. Have you bedded my granddaughter? I don’t care if you say yes, but I do need to know. There are certain measures I must take to ensure that rumors don’t spread,” Olenna said pointedly, watching the surprise settle in his eyes. Tywin shook his head.

“I’ll be honest with you, Lady Olenna. But know that if you chose to ruin your granddaughter's happiness—along with mine—for political advantages, I will not be forgiving,” he told her sharply. He wanted to trust that Olenna knew better, but trusting people was always a mistake to begin with. And, if he was honest, it was more about you than anything. He did not desire to know what Cersei might say or attempt to do to you should she find out.

“Ah, so I was correct in my assumptions about the two of you, how surprising. I am aware, Lord Tywin. I do not seek to tear my granddaughter down, only to ensure her safety and security,” Olenna assured with a satisfied smile. She knew she had been right, but letting Tywin prove it made her even happier.

“I am ensuring both of those things. Regardless, I have not bedded your granddaughter. Though more than a friendship, we have remained innocent. The most I have done is kiss her.”

Olenna laughed rather loudly, looking over at Tywin with a bewildered, curious expression, almost as if trying to figure him out.

“And so there is a lion in the garden. He has tasted its fruits, but when will he lay in its shade?”

“What kind of poetic nonsense is that supposed to be?”

Olenna smiled and looked down for a moment before fixing her gaze upon the man next to her.

“The most you have done is kiss her, Lord Tywin, but someday you will kiss her and that will not be enough. Eventually you will share her bed, rest assured.”

“If it pleases her, then yes, I hope to. Get to the point, you’re not the only person I intend to speak with at this dreadful feast,” he said, more than anything wanting the topic of conversation to switch. The last thing he wanted was to discuss with your grandmother just how badly he desired to take you. He feared he would not be able to prevent her from extracting the information should she truly want to know the extent of his lust for you.

“Do you intend to marry my granddaughter?”

Tywin looked over in surprise, mouth nearly falling. He certainly had not expected that.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you intend to marry my granddaughter? I’m no fool, Lord Tywin, I’m well aware that Walder Frey’s son did not mysteriously die in his sleep. Either you are simply possessive and desire to control her, or you have genuine affection for (Y/N) and intend to marry her at some point.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and contemplated, especially taking into account what the two of you had discussed after your first kiss.

“I would marry her, if she wished. But our… liaison is young. I’m certain you understand that my marriage to her—from anyone's perspective—could not disguise itself as a political one. If I marry her, it’ll most assuredly be because I wish to spend the rest of my short life with her. I desire to take my time figuring out if my feelings for her, and her feelings for me, are strong enough to warrant such a bond. Especially because I am so much older than she is. It would be selfish to ignore the fact that I might take much of her life and her future from her.”

“Of course. I’m not asking you to marry her tomorrow, Tywin. All I will ask of you is that, given your views on it, once you do decide to bed her that you will propose shortly afterwards,” she said, not wanting to watch the man turn her granddaughter into some sort of whore. Of course, Tywin would never intend to do that to you, but nonetheless, men failed to acknowledge certain aspects of reputation. Either way, Tywin paused and thought about what Olenna was asking.

“Very well, Olenna. I will propose once I ‘lie in the shade,’ as you say.”

She just laughed and linked her arm with his.

“The Great Lion of the Rock and the Nightshade of the Garden, what a match.”

—————

Joffrey’s feast was grand, and I found myself wondering how my grandmother had managed to acquire funds for the event. Of course, I knew better, but this was truly something. I’d never seen so much food or so many entertainers.

And of course, I’d never seen so many nobles. I’d already made my rounds, having said hello to Prince Oberyn and Ellaria Sand. He’d given me a slight nod, which meant everything was ready.

Currently, I was finishing my meal. I sat beside my grandmother and father, who was not speaking to me. I wondered if he blamed me for the death of Walder Frey’s son, somehow. Maybe it was my fault. Either way, why would I settle for a son of Walder Frey when Tywin Lannister wanted me?

And speaking of Tywin, I found myself making eye contact with him repeatedly. He was making his own rounds right now, but he would continually look up at me. Whenever he did, I felt my heart skip and a smile tug at my lips. There was something so fun about sneaking around with him, something so delightful about knowing that our love was only for us, and no one else.

He looked so handsome today too, and I was only able to drag my eyes away from him when I heard my sister banging on her cup.

“Let the band come out now! It’s time for dancing!” She announced with a smile, looking over at Joffrey and taking his hand in hers as she sat back down. He gave her a smile as she did. My sister truly was talented, somehow getting Joffrey to like her.

Everyone clapped as the band emerged, and they began to play some random folk song. Several couples got up, enjoying the lively music as others cheered them on. I did not know this dance, but I found myself hoping perhaps they’d play something I knew so I could ask Tywin to dance.

Though, if I was honest, I didn’t think myself brave enough to ask him, partly because I feared he might say no or think it too risky to do in front of so many people.

Nonetheless, I did want to dance at some point, no matter who it was with. Both Margaery and I were quite skilled dancers, and so I naturally assumed her and Joffrey would take to the floor. Well, perhaps. I secretly prayed they wouldn’t, I feared it might end badly.

Suddenly, I watched Oberyn make his way towards the tables. Joffrey gave him a judgemental look, as if wondering why he was being approached by Oberyn Martell of all people. My sister seemed confused too, but she smiled nonetheless.

“My king, my queen. I have come to offer this chalice, so the two of you might drink together for many happy years,” he said, placing the beautiful cup at their table.

“Thank you… Prince Oberyn,” Joffrey said with annoyance clear in his tone. Margaery smiled.

“It is a most generous gift, your grace,” she replied. Meanwhile, I watched Oberyn reach for Joffrey’s cup.

“Perhaps you might even use it for as fine a wine as this,” he said, lifting it to his nose and inhaling. Joffrey clearly looked disgusted, but said nothing. As Oberyn set it back down, he placed his hand on top, and I knew the deed was done.

“I will not bother your grace further, I wish joy to both of you,” he said, smiling and leaving them. I watched him sit down at his table again, and when he looked at me, I let out an exhale. My grandmother looked over, knowing just as well as I did that it would be a successful endeavor.

“You know, I do hope your sister takes to the floor before dessert is served, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen her dance. Or you, for that matter,” my grandmother said softly, watching the band wrap up their current song.

“Perhaps she will, if the king can be convinced,” I said, looking over at the couple. Margaery looked like she wanted to dance, and Joffrey had not perceived that yet.

“Do you think he’s a good dancer?” My grandmother joked quietly. I couldn’t help but laugh, looking over at her and placing a hand over my mouth. She merely smiled, and we focused on Margaery and Joffrey again as a new song began to play. This one I knew, and was rather fond of, though I did not think it would be appropriate to go ask Tywin right now, as Margaery was attempting to convince the king.

“Come my love, let us dance,” she whispered excitedly. He looked as if he was actually considering it, but he suddenly sat up straight and focused a bewildered gaze on me.

My heart stopped. Why was he looking at me like that?

“Perhaps we ought to wait for the next dance, wife. I want to see this,” he whispered.

Margaery looked over at me too, and she also looked shocked, but a smile began to emerge on her face. In my state of extreme confusion, I felt a small tap from my grandmother, and I turned to look at her.

As I did, however, I found Tywin standing directly in front of me on the opposite side of the table. He had a hand extended out, and a sly look on his face.

“Lady (Y/N), this dance?”

I looked up at him and gaped slightly, but I swallowed and nodded.

“Certainly, my lord,” I replied, reaching for his hand and standing. I made my way around the table, still with my hand in his, and as we made our way to the dance floor I couldn’t help noticing that everyone was staring.

And I was not exaggerating, either. It seemed all the nobles present had quieted down, and they were all staring at us. It appeared that everyone was shocked, and somewhat curious, to see Tywin Lannister dance.

When I looked over at Cersei, Tyrion, and Tommen, they all seemed surprised too. Cersei looked furious more than anything, but I watched Tommen and Tyrion share a look of well, almost excitement. Even King Joffrey was somewhat shocked, and I watched Margaery smile as they whispered to each other.

As Tywin and I reached the dance floor, and I placed one hand on his shoulder, and he placed mine on my waist, I finally met his eyes.

“Everyone is staring at us, Tywin.”

“Good. I want them to see this. To see how beautiful you look, and know that only I get to dance with you,” he whispered, pulling me in a bit closer. It made my cheeks heat, as the last time we’d been in this position he’d kissed me.

The band started up again, and he smiled with his eyes. Slowly, we began to move with the music, and Tywin was far more graceful than I’d ever expected. As we began to float across the floor, he moved as if he was 20.

“When was the last time you’ve done this dance?” I whispered teasingly, making him smile softly as our other hands met and he spun me so my back met his chest, our arms crossed over each other. After that, he did the same thing again but in the other direction. I felt his hot breath on my neck, and he spoke low in my ear.

“It doesn’t matter when if I dance better than you.”

I let out an ‘offended’ gasp, and then began to laugh as he untangled me from his arms and extended me outwards. We stepped into each other and then stepped back again, our hands remaining intertwined the entire time.

He lifted his hand then, and I slowly circled him as I held onto his hand. When I finished my rotation, we came back to a regular waltz position and we continued to glide around the floor.

“You’re not dancing better than I am, old man,” I shot back, watching his eyebrows raise in pretend shock.

“Old man? You’re going to regret that,” he said quietly, making me smile.

“I hope I do.”

He spun me as we waltzed, and my dress cascaded out beneath me. I was suddenly very grateful I’d picked this one out, as it certainly flattered my figure while dancing.

We continued to make our way around the floor, and his eyes were filled with such a deep fondness. To everyone in the crowd, he most certainly looked just as he always did, but I’d come to learn the small variations in his looks.

We transitioned into the next portion, splitting apart and positioning our arms behind our backs. We stepped into each other, opposite shoulders brushing before stepping away again. We repeated it facing the other way, before finally joining hands and pulling into each other directly. I was rather fond of this dance because though many steps were repeated, there were many small variations that always made it fun.

Again, we began to move around the floor in proper position, but in accordance with the violin, we began to spin a bit faster. Tywin extended his arm and pushed me out to his side, my dress swooshing as he pulled me back in and continued to spin.

It must’ve been a year or more since I’d last done this dance, but the steps came easily, and rather perfectly to my great relief. I was certain we at least looked good, for nobody else was dancing, only watching us.

I now broke out of Tywin’s arms, merely holding one hand as we moved forward and he twirled me three times, his other hand behind his back. As we approached the steps, we turned around and used our opposite hands, and he now twirled me thrice again.

I was thankfully not dizzy when we circled the floor once more, and I saw Tywin beginning to smile.

“What?”

“You truly do dance wonderfully.”

“You lead wonderfully.”

He truly smiled now before we began repeating our earlier steps. He, again, spun me into his chest and crossed his arms over me before doing it again the other way. Then of course, we grabbed both of each other's hands and stepped in and out twice.

We reached the slower portion of the song, and now we pushed one of our hands and forearms together, slowly circling each other twice. My hand was behind my back, and so was his. It was regrettable, because I longed to reach out and touch his face.

We circled each other the other way now, and it was so intimate I forgot there was a crowd watching. The sun was shining in his eyes, and for once he truly just looked happy.

We finally reached for both of each other's hands, slowly moving into each other and letting our opposite shoulders touch each other. Tywin’s face came to my neck, and we were so close I felt his stubble brush against my jawline.

“Do you think people will make comments about this?” I asked quietly.

“Let them, I don’t care. If I want to dance with you I’m going to, their whispers won’t bother me. It’s not as if I’m kissing you in front of them all,” he whispered back, stopping as he pulled away and continuing as his face came to the other side of mine.

“I don’t think you’ve danced publicly since you were a young man,” I guessed, not able to recall any stories of it.

“Correct. The last time I danced publicly was with Joanna,” he remarked, placing his hand back on my waist and letting our intertwined hands lift up again.

I looked up at him and gaped slightly. Was he insane?

“And you don’t think this will cause something close to an absolute scandal?”

“It probably will, but it’s not important to me. Let them speculate all they want, they don’t have any proof. Nor will they. You’re mine, and mine alone, (Y/N). Nobody gets to take that from us,” he said, leaning in and practically whispering right into my ear.

I swallowed, and when he pulled back there was a sly grin on his face. He was feeling rather bold, it seemed.

We were about to start our last round of waltzing, but I then realized that normally this part of the song included a lift. When we began to actually glide, I raised an eyebrow at him.

Would he dare?

He displayed the largest grin he’d shown in public for many years, and as the music was picked up, so was I.

Both of his hands held my waist, and for once, I was looking down at him. He was still smiling, and I found that I was too. It almost seemed to be happening in slow motion, and the moment felt so perfect I felt like a child again, reading books about princesses and fairy tales.

Yes, my sister was becoming the queen today, but would Joffrey lift her like Tywin had lifted me? Would Joffrey give his blanket to her in the cold? Hold her in his arms as she cried? Would Joffrey kiss her with the same passion and true love that Tywin had kissed me with that day?

The answer, of course, was no. My sister had taken the crown, but I truly felt a thousand times more lucky than her. The practically coldest, most ruthless man in all seven kingdoms was dancing with me, and he was smiling as he lifted me into the air.

As I came back down, we were both unable to stop smiling.

“Do you still think I'm just an old man?” He muttered, making me laugh genuinely and shake my head. We were still dancing, but I hardly noticed as I stared at him.

“You make me feel so lucky, Tywin,” I whispered, moving the hand on his shoulder to cup his cheek.

“Good. It’s only right of me to make sure you feel the same way I do.”

The song was about to end, and I was still smiling as Tywin held me in his arms and dipped me down. People began to applaud us, and when I stood up straight I saw clearly just how many people seemed shocked.

I glanced up at Tywin to find that his eyes were already on me, and that the crowd did not phase him. He offered me his arm and began to escort me back to my table, but we were stopped by Joffrey.

“Grandfather!”

Tywin and I paused, looking at Joffrey who was smiling brightly. I was certain this would not go well.

“Grandfather, why didn’t you tell me you could dance?” He asked, leaning forward and playing with one of his rings.

“It was not topical, your grace,” Tywin replied rather matter of factly.

“You danced wonderfully, my lord, and so did you, sister,” Margaery said, smiling over at Joffrey before looking at us. I was grateful she did not allow the conversation to become awkward.

“Thank you, your grace,” Tywin said to her, bowing slightly and then getting me back to my table. He pulled out my chair for me, and once I’d sat down, he kissed my hand.

“Thank you for the dance, Lady (Y/N), I enjoyed it very much,” he said softly, to which I smiled.

“Of course, Lord Tywin.”

I watched him make his way across the steps to his own chair, and then turned over to my grandmother who could not look at me seriously. I did not know she was already aware of my relationship with Tywin.

“Oh stop it, grandmother. It’s just a dance.”

“Yes, and Tywin Lannister has not danced since he was courting his wife.”

I simply shook my head and watched her smile and look away.

“(Y/N), what just happened?” My father asked, leaning forward to speak to me. I wanted to sigh, of course that had prompted him to speak.

“Lord Tywin asked me to dance, father. It would’ve been rude to decline,” I replied, watching his confused face. It seemed as if he was trying to figure something out, and I prayed he wouldn’t detect my feelings for Tywin, because that would certainly be my downfall.

Several more songs played, and my sister joined Joffrey for one of them. He managed not to make a fool of himself, but it was clear that Margaery was far more skilled. It made me proud of her, and slightly emotional. My little sister was truly grown up now, married and everything.

Though, she wouldn’t be for much longer, and I was reminded of that upon watching the ‘dwarf’ show that Joffrey had requested for the feast. I was certainly glad Sansa and Loras weren’t here, especially because the way they portrayed Renly was horrible.

“This is horrendous,” my grandmother whispered, watching the ‘rendition’ of the war of the five kings. Of course, they did not portray me negotiating with Robb Stark. Instead, ‘Joffrey’ was so brave and powerful that Robb Stark cowardly went back to Winterfell.

I’d looked over at Tywin during that part, and he’d looked even more furious than he had during the rest of it. Though, if I was honest, I had no desire to be a part of that dreadful little play in any capacity.

When it was over, I felt relieved.

But no, it did not end there, for how could it? Joffrey decided to tease his uncle, and I felt utterly ashamed of the king.

I, along with every person there, watched Joffrey pick up his current glass and saunter over to Tyrion. I was infuriated as I watched him pour it on his head.

“A fine vintage, shame that it spilled,” Tyrion said in an attempt to diffuse the situation. My grandmother reached for my hand under the table as a silent reassurance that by the end of the day, things like this would never happen again.

“It did not spill,” Joffrey replied angrily.

“My love, come back to me, it’s time for my fathers toast,” Margaery said, trying to make all of it stop. I hoped she’d be able to, for nobody else would.

“Well how am I supposed to toast without wine? Uncle, you can be my cupbearer, seeing as you’re too cowardly to fight,” Joffrey said with a wicked grin. I had to hold back a sigh at how painful this was to watch.

“Your grace does me a great honor,” Tyrion said, preparing himself mentally for whatever humiliation might ensue.

“It’s not meant as an honor.”

Tyrion slowly got out of his chair and made his way around the table to take Joffrey’s cup, but Joffrey merely dropped it before him.

When Tyrion went to pick it up, Joffrey kicked it under the table.

“Bring me my goblet,” he sneered, watching Tyrion crawl under the table. All the Lannisters watched awkwardly as Tyrion searched for it, and so did all the nobles present.

When he found it and presented it to Joffrey, it continued to get worse.

“What good is an empty cup? Fill it for me,” he demanded.

“Your grace, you have another cup of wine over there,” Tyrion reminded, motioning to the dessert glass.

“That’s for dessert. I want you to refill this cup,” Joffrey scowled.

Tyrion defeatedly refilled the cup and extended it out to Joffrey. That was when things got tense, as Joffrey continued to demand that Tyrion kneel. When he did not, we all became increasingly uncomfortable.

“My love! The pie is here!” Margaery announced, and we all watched as Joffrey turned and laid his eyes upon the absolutely massive pie. I’d never been so grateful for my sister. We all stood in preparation of Joffrey cutting it.

First though, he sneered at Tyrion and snatched the cup from him, handing it to Margaery.

“My queen,” he addressed, unsheathing his sword and approaching the pie. Without any hesitation, he raised the sword and brought it down harshly. Doves flew from the cake, and everyone gasped and applauded.

When I looked over, I even saw Tywin smile at the display. Well, after witnessing what had just happened, anything nice was worth smiling at in my opinion.

Slices were served, and I watched as Margaery fed Joffrey. There was a look of contemplation on his face, and I felt dread fill me.

“Uncle!”

When Joffrey turned around, Tyrion was attempting to leave the feast. Oh gods.

“Where are you going?”

“I wanted to change out of these wet clothes, your grace,” he excused.

“No, no you’re perfect just as you are. Serve me my wine,” Joffrey demanded, taking another bite of the pie.

Tyrion awkwardly went around the table and reached for the cup he’d just filled, but no.

“Not that one, the one for dessert. Hurry up, this pie is dry,” he clarified.

I watched Tyrion reach for the poisoned cup, and bring it to Joffrey.

Oh no.

I suddenly began to realize what it was going to look like, and I hoped I’d still be able to figure out a way to blame Oberyn. As I thought about it, I found it might actually be easier.

I watched Joffrey eagerly drink, and I made eye contact with Oberyn Martell. Success.

“Ah, good. Needs washing down,” Joffrey muttered to himself, swallowing as much as he could. When Tyrion asked permission to leave, Joffrey began to speak again.

“No! You’ll- you’ll stay here.”

He’d begun to cough, and I knew he had a minute left at most.

“Your grace?”

Tyrion approached, wondering if he was ok. Joffrey drank even more wine, and then turned to look at my sister. He grabbed at his throat, and Margaery’s eyes widened.

“He’s choking!”

All of us stood up, watching carefully as Joffrey stumbled forward and fell to the ground. Jaime Lannister pushed through the crowd, making his way to Joffrey who was now vomiting.

Cersei began to shout ‘help him!’ As she pushed past my sister and fell to the ground beside her son. I watched Tywin move to cover Tommen’s eyes, and I’m sure by now he realized what had happened.

Ready to give my performance, I rushed down next to Joffrey and helped turn him on his back. His face was beginning to turn purple already.

“He’s been poisoned,” I gasped, looking at Jaime with concern.

“What do we do? What do we do?” He asked in a panic.

“The strangler…” I muttered, looking at him with defeat. Jaime looked terrified, and so did Cersei.

“Joffrey! Joffrey, what is it?” She asked, tears in her eyes. We all watched as he reached out a hand toward Tyrion, who was examining the cup he’d dropped.

I saw the anger and realization settle in Cersei’s eyes as the blood streamed from Joffrey’s nose and filled his eyes. Within moments, Joffrey was dead.

Cersei began to cry, and then she looked at Tyrion once more.

“He did this. He poisoned my son. Your king!” She announced to the crowd. Tywin had joined us now, standing above me.

“Take him! Take him!” She screamed, watching as the guards grabbed Tyrion. When I looked up at Tywin, he looked furious.

While I looked over at Jaime, I heard him announce that the city gates should be closed and all ships forbidden from leaving the docks.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. You would’ve needed an antidote, and they’re not common,” I said to Jaime, watching him hang his head. Cersei only continued to cry, and I felt Tywin’s hand on my back.

When I looked up, his hands reached for my arms and helped me up. He wanted to give Cersei space, and I understood.

Carefully, we backed away and I let a few tears slip.

“Tywin I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I should’ve realized when he began to cough, maybe if he’d thrown up before it had set in- I should’ve realized,” I whispered, watching him shake his head and take me into his arms.

“Nobody could have known, it’s not your fault.”

I opened my eyes for a moment and looked out at the crowd. Oberyn was smiling, just like I’d told him to. Good.

My grandmother came over to us, and Tywin let me go.

“Nobody drink any of the wine, have it all thrown out,” she said, to which we all nodded.

I looked back at Margaery, who had two hands over her mouth. I went up to her and took her in my arms.

“(Y/N) I let him die, I didn’t even try to do anything, I should’ve rushed to help him,” she whispered, tears beginning to fall.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done Margaery, that poison can’t be stopped without an antidote,” I whispered, petting her hair. I watched Tywin go to Tommen, taking him in his arms. The boy looked terrified, and he clung to his grandfather. In another setting, it may have made a wholesome domestic scene.

But no, it represented the death of a king, and one that I had conspired to kill no less. But with Tyrion framed, I would never be suspected in any capacity, especially because Cersei hated him so deeply. It presented another problem, but it was irrelevant. Now all that I had to do was convince Tywin that Prince Oberyn was responsible. Later, it would make me smile. Cersei had been right the entire time, we had been plotting against them.

Whatever love I had for Tywin, I would not let it override the love I had for my family. Margaery would come before Tywin’s legacy every single time. And truly, he still had Tommen, who would be much easier for him to guide and council.

It was an amusing illustration to consider.

Tommen on the throne, and everyone watching as Tywin pulls the puppet’s strings. What they would not see was me behind Tywin, whispering in his ears and pulling his strings.

It was an odd feeling, knowing that I had manipulated the most powerful man in all seven kingdoms. But it made me smile, for though I would not end up in any history books as I’d hoped to when I was a girl, I could rest peacefully knowing that I was the most powerful person in all seven kingdoms. And the best part was, nobody knew it but me.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul @nothing2113

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws

[the-ace-with-spades]

Relating to this post, a snippet of the different first meeting/secret identity au fic (I think I'll stick with exhumation as the title):

The MacTavish House, Erskine, Renfrewshire, Scotland December 2017

Johnny got a call on Christmas Day.

Unknown number, with the Greater Manchester code at the beginning. He missed it, busy helping his Da and sisters with the tree decorating, but when the notification showed up on his Samsung, he felt something heavy drop from his throat to his stomach.

Simon hadn't been answering his texts, yesterday and today.

He was doing, well, not well, but better. He knew he was cleared to go back to work, finally, even if on a limited duty for a couple of months, but he was still having the PTSD episodes, still wasn't sleeping, still was on a constant high-vigilance and it didn't sit right with him. Even months later, everyone was worried about him — his mum, Tommy, Beth — but John wasn't sure they actually understood the extent Simon's issues run. John had opted to ignore it, for the sake of not arguing with Simon, but Simon's family seemed to have a very distorted image of him, like he was this invincible man capable of holding them all together, solving all their problems and never really needing much care himself.

It was easy to fall for the image — Simon, the unmovable wall of a man, standing guard over all of them — and John had fallen for it himself, just to have it shattered when Simon walked away from his grave after whatever happened that had him declared MIA for almost six months. The Simon that came back seemed the same now, to anyone who didn’t look closely, but John knew something died in him in the time he grieved his disappearance.

He loved him all the same.

It didn’t matter if he had nightmares through the nights they were in the same bed, it didn’t matter if he stayed awake and unmoving under John’s arms, it didn’t matter if he spaced out and stared at people’s faces like he could see their bare bones smiling at him, it didn’t matter if he kept scratching at the gnarly scars, opening them again and again. He was still John’s Simon.

He hadn't felt good about leaving him alone for the three days he’d be in Scotland, but it was his first Christmas back since he came—back, and Simon wanted to spent it with his family and not John’s and insisted John went, seeing as he didn't have many opportunities to meet his family much either.

“Promise I’ll try to meet your ma for Easter,” he had told John. He wasn’t sure how much of that promise would actually be kept — John didn’t think Simon would be doing that much better by Easter.

It was just three days and then John would be back in Manchester with the G Squad during the day and Simon during the evening.

He tried to find a quiet place. Impossible with half of their family in his parents’ house, but after shushing one of his nephews out of the living room and sending off his ma back to the kitchen after a couple of, “Yes, A’ll tell him ye’re sending love, ma, even though Am not even callin’ him reit noo,” and a promise to help her season the meat. He stood in the corner, not too far away from the Christmas tree, watching the snow moul their empty laundry line.

He called back the Manchester number.

It kept on ringing and ringing, and he was about to give up when he heard, “Detective Sergeant Wright speaking.”

Chapter 1 will most likely also have those scene headings:

Interrgoration Room, Unnamed Base, New Mexico, USA January 2018

(which is Price & Ghost)

Unnamed Joint Base, Classified Location, Urzikistan October 2022

Unspecified Location, near Verdansk, Kastovia March 2021

(Soap joining the task force)

[silvermaplealder]

Could you show your workflow for these animations? What Programs you use, etc. :)

Of course! I'll show you my workflow for this scene with David since it's probably one of the more complicated ones I'm doing.

First, I use Moho Animation. I love it. I learned how to use it in about 10 days. It's FUCKING expensive ($400 💀💀💀) but you can get the demo version for 30 days, or the debut version for like $60. I'm working on the demo version, so you'll see the ugly watermarks all over my screen lol. But no matter, it still works! The nice thing about Moho is it uses vectors to let you move shapes so you don't have to actually draw frame by frame. I like to sketch key frames in my sketch app and then I import the images and use the vectors to recreate the characters. Here's David's eye for example:

It's made of points and I can move the points.

This is the sketch I made for the scene:

Then I put it in Moho and traced my sketch to create the characters in vector format:

Idk how much you know about vectors and such, but coloring, shading, making designs is a bitch. I like to get the characters done first, and then add in the background, and then after the animation is done I'll go back and add shading and lighting.

Moho also has an amazing bone rigging system and "smart bones" which are super useful. Head turns are AMAZING to use smart bones for.

Now, I'm very new to animating. I can tell you what I know, but I barely even scratched the surface. I've also used Synfig before which has an amazing tutorial available on YouTube and Synfig is FREE. I found it was a tad glitchy when I was using it but that was back before I really knew what I was doing so it was probably user error.

When I say I learned Moho in 10 days, I mean I literally spent 8-10 hours a day for almost two weeks straight just watching tutorials and following along 💀 you could ask my roommate, I barely moved from the computer 😂 some days I remember getting up around 7am to animate and going to bed around midnight. I'd take breaks for farm work but I don't think I really ate much or did anything else lol.

Here's a short clip of what I've been working on from around 4pm yesterday to right now. Stayed up until 1am and woke up around 5:30am. Pretty much just doing this:

Getting to this point has taken me about 15 hours. It's barely 4 seconds long. I had to make my sketch, then convert the characters into vectors. Make sure all the layers were set before moving onto the background. Then I had to make switch layers for the eyes so they can change color. Not pictured is I made more switch layers for a glowing affect, but I cant add that until after I add the shading and lighting. I still want to make him "talk" (I want to have text appear since I'm not using voices), but I have no idea how to do that, so to YouTube tutorials I go!

[onboardsorasora]

This has been burning a hole in my docs since yesterday. Figured I'd get it out before the big event today :D

Part 1 | Part 8

Part 9

The rest of the afternoon happened in waves. The first wave was disbelief, of course. Vic was still stupefied and Sophie was eagle eyed. Max as ever was mystified. 

It truly wasn’t until a moment where Daniel answered a question off handedly that he shouldn’t have been able to answer, that Vic believed.

The boys had moved on from painting their own drawings to painting Daniel’s tattoos. Sophie at first, tried to stop them, but Daniel said it was fine; Isa did this all the time and she loved it. The boys were excited because they saw the tattoos move. 

Love was now outlined in blue paint, the cowgirl winked when they painted her purple. The boys giggled. Luka and Lio were discussing the colour choice for the skull baby– in Dutch– when Daniel said;

“Isaac always paints him green.”

Max squinted his eyes while the boys nodded sagely as if that truly was the correct idea. And then they got back to painting. Daniel sat quietly like the pretty canvas he was. Max was sure that Daniel didn’t know Dutch. He was willing to bet money on it.

“Daniel, what colour should they paint your rose?” Max asked in Dutch, loudly enough for it to carry. Sophie and Vic raised their brow at him, clearly they could also tell that Daniel wouldn't know Dutch.

Daniel looked over at Max and his lips scrunched as if he was thinking before he shrugged with a smile. “Maybe pink?” He looked to the boys hesitantly to see if they liked the suggestion. Luka said something else and there was a beat before Daniel nodded his agreement.

“Daniel, do you speak Dutch?” Max decided to just ask, he truly wanted to know.

“No, but Sassy and Jimmy do.” Daniel tilted his head as if Max asked something silly but he didn’t want to tease him in front of his family.

The second wave was awe. Michelle had called– on Max’s phone because Daniel’s was predictably dead– and Daniel had gotten excited. They hadn’t spoken in a whole day and he missed her. 

When he had gotten up to take Max’s phone, the lighthouse on his thigh glowed and the light in the tower flashed twice. Much to the delight of everyone. 

Daniel had taken the quick call in Max’s sim room and was incandescently happy when he returned. His wide grin was back and all the images on his arms fluttered in contentment. 

Max couldn’t help the smile that slashed across his face, this was the Daniel he knew and– felt comfortable with. This was the Daniel he met. 

Daniel hummed a song and whispered sweetly to Sassy while everyone chattered around him. Max watched fondly as Sassy melted into a pile of Sassy goo and purred loudly. 

“–Max?” it was Vic grabbing his attention. She was smirking at him like she knew something he didn’t. “Do you want to cut your cake now?” She asked when she confirmed she had his attention. Max agreed with a shrug and the boys cheered and everyone shuffled happily to the dining table where Sophie set-up the cake with candles.

They were just about finished singing the happy birthday song when they noticed the birds. Lio saw the birds first, and ran immediately onto the screened in patio. Luka followed right after, staring open mouth in delight as birds of all types fluttered just outside the protective screen.

“Sorry about that.” Daniel was sheepish, his painted arm rested behind his head in embarrassment. “You should blow out your candles before the wax melts Maxy.” 

“Y–yes he's right, dear.” Sophie turned her attention back from the scene, wonder plastered all over her features. 

Max did as told, making a wish and blowing out his candles. Sophie, Vic and Daniel cheered and he smiled a happy scrunchy smile at them.

Daniel collected the boys; scooping them up in his arms with tickles and promises to call more birds later, after they’ve all had cake.

The third stage was acceptance. As Vic and Sophie laughed heartily at a joke Daniel told, Max couldn’t help but wonder if there was a way to keep this.

Part 10

[hotchs-big-hands]

okay girlie hand kink hotch

you were a little late so when you got to the round table room you scooted past aaron with a quickly muttered 'sorry im late' and as you pass aarons chair you put your hands on his shoulders to scoot by and the tips of his ears go red and he clears his throat before saying "its no problem. someone can catch you up on the way to the air field" and looking back at the gruesome crime scene photos, which quickly put the delicious burning sensation on aarons shoulders out of his mind.

walking around together outside the crime scene tape to determine wether the attack was contained to the scene or if it was spread out over a larger area and when you use your hand to tap on his chest and point out what looks like a smear of dried blood on a seemingly abandoned car and he cant help himself but to ask "did you get your bails done yesterday? they look good" and now youre BOTH blushing.

aaron being flustered because while you were calming down and interviewing a traumatized child you slowly start to braid her hair to lull her into a sense of safety and he watches your fingers so intently as they flex and twist the strands of her hair together. he wants to shoot himself for getting so bothered over such an innocent moment.

hes laying on his bed in hotel room. its late and hes so fucking pent up from spending all god damn day getting riled up over you and your fucking hands. he needs a release and he needs it soon. so here he is, pajama pants pushed down, his sick sticking out of the slit in his boxers, and his left hand firmly gripping his heavy cock and stroking it. his mind is flooded with the vision of your hands. if you have soft dainty little hands hes thinking about how good theyll feel on his cock, stroking him to completion and rubbing against his skin. if you have larger rougher hands hes imaging how it would feel to have them gripping in his hair and scratching down his back.

hes so close, biting his shirt as to bot make noise, hips thrusting up off the bed to match to pace his hand is stroking. his eyes are rolling back and the pressure is building and building and- theres someone knocking on his door. he freezes for a moment before stroking again, whoever it is can wait til morning. hes sleeping. but then they knock again, louder. horny, tired and now pissed off, he shoves himself in his pants as quick as he can and marches to the door, bitterness welling up inside him as the subtle pain of blue balls creeps up (???im not a penis haver idk if thats accurate lmfao where is criminalskies when you need them) until he opens the door and realizes its you.

and for some reason, you look about as pent up and wrecked as he feels. he doesnt really remember exactly how it happened. one moment hes standing at the door asking if youre alright and the next hes sittingg on the edge of the bed, leaned back on one elbow with his other hand tangled in the sheets. head tipped back, eyes shut and mouth open spilling out soft sighs and little whimpers. both of your hands are wrapped around his cock, slowly slowly moving up anna down, twisting your wrists and leaning down and give kittenish locks to his tip. now it might be the fastest aaron's ever cum since high school, but good fucking damn was it worth it.

hes just hoping he still has a job when you guys get back to quantico. and the chance to get your hands on him again.

unedited idgaf its late and horny hour we ride like men with our typos and convoluted ramblings.

A W O O G A AAAAAAAAA I LOVE THIS IM 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 WOW YEAH SKSKFJRJFJWJDJAJSJ

G o d him looking at his cum dripping from your fingers would absolutely wreck his brain I'm so fucking sure of it. He's never been so turned on in a while.

[twentysidednerd]

POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR “I SAW THE TV GLOW”

‼️‼️‼️‼️THIS IS YOUR WARNING TO TURN BACK NOW IF YOU DONT WANT TO BE SPOILED‼️‼️‼️‼️

i’ve been thinking about “i saw the tv glow” ever since i saw it yesterday and all of the layers that were in it. especially since my brain’s been kinda blah since last night

yes, the whole movie is essentially an allegory to being trans and not being able to be yourself. and i LOVE that messaging, don’t get me wrong. i think it’s so important to have that narrative be told. that messaging is literally part of the reason why my friend and i got so emotional when we watched it lmao. i literally started thinking about the scene where owen/isabel tackles maddie/tara on the football field and runs away right before they go through with their plan at the dinner table yesterday and almost cried. how owen/isabel was so close but got too scared and ran away. that happens so much with trans people, myself included, and it just… ugh, it hit home so hard

but so much of it also reminds me of how it feels to deal with maladaptive daydreaming. how owen/isabel wants so badly to run away into the world of “the pink opaque” and be someone else, be someone he wants to be rather than what real life dictates he SHOULD be. when maddie/tara talks about time and reality feeling different and wrong when she’s in this world but feeling better or “normal” when she’s in the world of “the pink opaque”. the image of owen/isabel literally sticking his/her head into the tv screen, so close to that fantasy world, before being pulled away and forced back to this reality sticks with me to this very moment

you want to live in, and stay in, the worlds in your head so badly with MADD. i know i have an issue trying to be present and be a part of reality when the worlds in my head make me feel so much better. i have so much of an issue trying to be there for the people around me and focus on what’s happening but the second i start getting overwhelmed or just have time alone for myself, im right back into the worlds in my head and i would much rather stay there because it feels safer. i feel some semblance of control, of being someone worthwhile. the exact same way maddie/tara would rather be in, and stay in, “the pink opaque” world

that in itself is a coping mechanism for stress! a coping mechanism the stress owen/isabel finds himself/herself in when trying to be who he/she is in a world that doesn’t want him/her to be! the stress from the fear of wanting to come out and be yourself but being forced to conform to what the rest of the world wants! it’s all intertwined! and i love it! this movie just gets better the more i think about it!!

and i love that even though it doesn’t have a happy ending, there’s still a twinge of hope. because there is still time for owen/isabel, just like the chalk on the street says. there are plenty of people who transition later in life. though owen/isabel is struggling badly at the end of the movie, he/she still has time to be who he/she wants to be. who he/she is. it’s not too late. it might be bad at the moment for him/her, but it’s not too late

[ladystarksneedle]

I am completely thrown off track because of the hurricane that came yesterday. I gotta finish my data analysis before the deadline and I have a headache today, but I still can't stop watching the teaser and the youtube videos analysing it. On the other hand, it felt anticlimactic and like a massive drop in Dopamine for me? like yeah, its over. Whats next?

You already know my favorite two scenes from the teaser: Daemon at Godswood and Aemond's walk towards the throne (Obviously in Michael Gavey's voice). What about yours?

Also, I wish they showed a teeny-tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it glimpse of Alys Rivers. Hoping for another teaser soon, but I reckon they won't feed us until March. Our gluttony has no bounds.

Aah Uz took the words right out of my mouth! I think I was so looking forward to it and now that it's here and I've seen it, I feel a little meh.

I hope your headache subsides soon and you meet your deadline on time, I know you will though and then we can talk and fangirl more❤️

I think the trailer was.. definitely not what I was expecting. For one the vibes are definitely a bit darker, but in a way I didn't anticipate. I'll start with the costumes since I love talking about those

I loved some of the costumes. Alicent is slaying as usual, I loved all her fits, the green dress, the teal, the veils and another crown finally!

Even loved the red dress and dragon rider fit Rhaenyra has with the red and black and her black council outfit with the golden dragon motifs for syrax on her shoulder. It looks like she's wearing a braid in one scene so they're going with the book description of her trying to channel Queen Visenya's whole image of the warrior queen

I think Aegon's could have been done way way better. He's grown his hair and some people commented this is him finally embracing the Targaryen aspect of power. I loved the golden dragon embroidery on his tunic but it seems way similar to his coronation fit and frankly I expected something grander given that he's king now.

Aemond also is in those same black leathers, not really complaining because he's him obviously but I wish they'd done more for him.

He's also not wearing armour while riding Vhagar which has me questioning things.

A couple of people said they're saving it for a big reveal sort of thing and this was just the first look but I'm still a bit bummed as we did see Daemon in armour so that was.. interesting.

As for the plot

Really confused as to the Laenor-Addam thing and syrax vs the grey dragon showdown scene, I wonder what they're going to do about Seasmoke now and I think that's him in the picture.

Also alicent infront of a lake? Super confused about this

I think my favourites would be Aemond and Aegon's strut towards the throne, Helaena's brief appearance and her looking up at Jaehaerys' funeral which has me sad and on the edge of my seat. I'm looking forward to more scenes of her.

Criston executing someone who looks like a black loyalist and Alicent and Otto's conversation.

Things I'm salty about: No mention of Daeron , Alys and nettles. At all. I hope the next trailer gives an inclination of sorts which like you said would probably be around March.

[lylahammar]

Do you have any tips for developing a healthier relationship to being fat? I'm fat and have a uhhhhh very negative relationship with the physical appearance of my body, despite treating my body well on a physical level. I read a ton of fat liberation stuff and fat positive studies and while logically I know that being fat isn't bad and has no bearing on morality, personality, etc, I still can't seem to apply this reasoning to myself. Most of the content on the internet is geared towards cis abled woman when I'm a trans disabled man, so that probably contributes to some extent, but idk. It also doesn't help that attraction-wise I'm definitely drawn to people who are the exact opposite of me physically (tall, lanky, angular, etc). I've been trying for years to even just be okay with my appearance and none of the common advice has worked. I pretty much only feel okay with myself when I forget that I have a physical body. Your fat positive content makes me really happy and you seem to have a positive relationship with your body, so I thought it was worth asking if you had any tips for me or anyone else who might need them.

Feel free to disregard this message if it makes you uncomfortable! You don't know me and I don't want to put my feelings on you. I appreciate any response you might give, but I also don't want to breach any boundaries. I hope you have a nice day!

-🧪

Hello!! I've been thinkin about this question since you sent it yesterday, it's a very good question but also a toughie 😅 The thing to keep in mind is that internalized fatphobia isn't a problem caused by personal problems, it's almost entirely a societal thing. I've been working on my body image issues for a long long time now, and honestly sometimes I do still feel down about my fatness. BUT it gets easier and easier as you get older, I promise you that! Especially if you keep working on it. So here are some tips I can think of:

Try to consume a lot of body neutral media! For me, body positive stuff can get a little grating and actually do the opposite of its intended purpose, because the constant focus on "everyone is beautiful!! Love your fat body!" can start to feel... I don't know, like it's drawing attention to it too much, and making it less normal. I like media in which fatness is portrayed as normal and doesn't get alienated so much, even in a positive way. A few good recommendations I can think of off the cuff are Dungeon Meshi (can't help plugging my fave manga heheh, Ryoko Kui is just so loving in her portrayal of different body types), Steven Universe, Hairspray, and Porco Rosso. Couplagoofs on Instagram, tiktok, twitch and youtube are really good influencers for this, watching their content has helped me a lot with my own body image! I've heard that Shrill is a good show for fat representation, but I've only seen this one scene (which is very good) so I can't speak definitively about it's quality! If anyone else has any good suggestions, please reply with them 🙏

Stay off of tiktok until you feel more comfortable with your own body. Tiktok is kind of a trap, because it'll put a lot of really great diverse body neutral stuff on your fyp to lure you in, but then it'll shut you down with the most hateful shit you've ever seen. And if you're not on the body neutral side of tiktok, you'll be in skinny town USA thirst trap hell forever lmfao it's just like not worth it

Surround yourself with accepting people. It's especially helpful to seek out other fat/fat positive friends (especially of the queer and neurodivergent variety). Fat people are everywhere, we're way more common than society and media would have you think!! It's good to have people around you to remind you of that 😁

If you have the money for it, try going on a special shopping trip to find some clothes that make you feel really good. Go alone, unless you have someone who you feel 100% comfortable with, because this trip should be about your needs and whatever makes you feel happy with your own body. You don't need anyone else's opinion for that! I know that this bit of advice is a little cliche, but it's just what has helped me personally.

This might be just a me thing, but practicing with drawing fat bodies has probably done more for my body image than anything else. It forces you to spend a lot of time looking at fatness and really growing to understand it and accept it. I've got a pinterest board for fat poses that I've been collecting (which I've just realized only has feminine people in it, I need to fix that >:/ ). Fat Photo Reference is another good site for practice, but it requires a password, so if anyone wants to get in then just DM me! Self portraits are also a great idea for this, especially if you find fatness beautiful in other people but not yourself, like you've said! Maybe give it a shot on a day when you're feeling up to it 💛

I hope this helps!! I'm not an expert on this, so my advice might be just as cliche and unhelpful as everything else out there 😅 but this is all just from personal experience. Fatness is normal and healthy and beautiful, so I hope you can come to accept your own soon!! 🙏

[scyphosunny]

vargastober day 11 was posted a couple days ago ! this is a huge one , so let's talk about it .

i wanted to write an entry for this one yesterday , but i wasn't home ! i was still able to write something , but i spent most of the day getting some sleep . SUNNY , SLEEPING MORE THAN 3 HOURS A DAY ? NEVER HEARD OF IT !

first of all . . . what happened with day 10's piece ? if im being honest , i can't really remember anymore . but i'll try .

ah , yes ! it was a busy day , overall . ( it really wasn't .

i spent some time with else on vc , had a nice time ! talked about a bunch of stuff . then , i tried to get something before 7PM . . . and while i did get a small sketch i wasn't really pleased with it . which is weird ! because i drew something similar a while ago . . .

THE COMPARISON IS FUCKING KILLING ME , WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE HE SWALLOWED A FUCKING BRICK IN THE FIRST ONE . i had a lot of trouble with face shapes , as you can probably notice . . .

did my usual things , watched evo with sister and had something to eat . then , it was thursday ! and usually my friends and i do stuff on thursdays . that day we played stardew valley !

my sister ended up puking and i panicked because i have emetophobia so after crying for an hour i was exhausted

i was planning on going to sleep early today since i was so tired . i tried to push myself a bit to get that piece done but i knew for a fact that i wouldn't be able to stay awake or focus even if i wanted . i also knew that if i tried maybe i could get something i liked ? sometimes the sketches for these don't look great , it's mostly about the colors or the ambience i add afterwards . ough then my friend asked if i could wake her up at 3AM because they all know im usually awake at that hour , and my stupid ass said yes even if i was falling asleep on the couch . i took a nap and i was talking to cris to try and keep myself awake . then i just went to sleep . and yeah , i knew the piece for yarn would be huge so i didn't even try to continue with the past one . another one to my " failed " folder ! this is the second time i chose a reference from the same artist and this is the second time i fail . MAYBE THAT'S BEEN THE PROBLEM THIS WHOLE TIME

i was setting ideas for the prompts , and the idea i had for this one was actually very different ! i was thinking , maybe scriabin using edgar like a puppet with strings of yarn ! that was a cool concept . maybe too cool . so i was like . . . what if someone already has this idea ?? what if we end up doing the same things ? something i want to avoid . i feel like , that's an image that also appears in other people's heads . so i was thinking . . . what else could i do . . . . . . and don't even know how , but i got the idea of that one scene scri described on chapter 20 !

this one ! it had been a scene i wanted to draw for a long time . honestly , i want to draw all the memories they described ough I JUST LOVE DRAWING FOR THIS UNIVERSE SO MUCH . it feeds my age regression delusions .

as soon as i was up , i tried not to waste too much time so i could work with this one . i really wanted to get it done that day ! since i knew i'd be out on saturday .

let's see . . . when i told brusk about this one i talked about how i had NO IDEA how i was going to achieve this and she shared this cool website with a bunch of 3D models of pretty rooms ! so i searched for one that looked similar to what i had in mind for their room .

started thinking . . . what do i think their room looks like ? at first i was thinking of it a bit like bluey's room , maybe . . . or dipper and mabel's room too . just two beds in the corners of the room . a bunk bed would also work for them , but let's just leave it like that .

this is a bit of what i had in mind ! maybe edgar's bed being the one on the lefft and scri's the one on the right . i tried to make it look messier for that reason lolz . two windows , some toys on the floor , a nice carpet in between the beds . . . i can't really imagine them having posters around , to be honest . maybe just some pictures . . . even if i added two beds ( for obvious reasons ) i have the hc that scri would mostly sleep on edgar's bed . a bit like what he does on the chapters after he has a body ! scri just goes , sits on the corner of the bed and even if edgar told him not to sleep there he still does and edgar doesn't do anything about it lolz . i can imagine scri walking to edgar's bed in the middle of the night to cuddle with edgar and that's that . so , in theory , edgar's bed should be the messy one and scri's would be made most of the time since he doesn't really sleep there . " his bed would be made " , is that how you even call it ? i don't know . . . then , they'd have fights and would sleep separately . ough , my little kids . </3

so yeah , that was the layout i had planned originally . i searched on the website , and these caught my eye !

( links for them are here and here

i was going to use that ffirst one as the reference but then i was like . that's a bad place to put a bed . ( ??? ) so i kept looking , even if i wanted to give those vibes . then , found that second one and my brain immediately went PERFECT

BUT .

i have a little problem . and my perception of time is absolutely broken . I CAN'T VISUALIZE HOW THINGS WERE BEFORE 2000'S i SWEAR . 2000's for me are like . how everything is rn . maybe like those nostalgia pics ppl like to share on social media . but , for everything before the 2000's it's like

WHICH IS A FUCKING PROBLEM BECAUSE I CAN'T VISUALIZE ANYTHING FOR THEM THAT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE IT BELONGS TO YEAR 1800

i knew for a fact that the story was set in the 90's but i also wasn't sure ? because there's this entry on violation where scriabin writes a date .

I WAS PRETTY CONFUSED , i wanted to go with that but i also knew that we couldn't really trust scri when it comes to anything . i asked zar because i wanted to have everything in place and she did say that scri was lying lolz . I JUST THINK OF THAT A LOT everytime i want them to do something i'm constantly thinking " did this thing exist back then " " is this how this thing looked when this happened " IT'S ANNOYING

i had to do some calculations . . . let's see , if the story is set roughly on the 90's , and edgar's like , 30 years old let's say ( i hc him being +30 , but zar usually says that he's in his late twenties so i'd go with 27 or 28 ) , so he was a kid on . 1970 , let's say . i literally googled " rooms in the 70's " but i was still leaning into something that looked more old that that . THEY ALSO SEEM TO LIVE IN THE FOREST OR SOMETHING IDK their house looks old in my head

i did end up changing the bed's design , though . make it a little more square-ish . if that makes sense . oh , also ! i added some stairs for scri , since he's so small and the bed looks tall ( it was actually even taller in the 3D render ) . he maybe moved the stairs to edgar's bed so he could just hop in when he wanted . smol boy .

so well . . . i had no idea if i could trust the process , to be honest . i had to move some stuff around , pushed the bed to the corner of the room , added the window in between the beds and uh idk i think that's all i had to move

so , i went from this

to this

to , well . this !

before even starting i watched a tutorial . i know for a fact that i'm not good at backgrounds . and i really REALLY didn't want to fuck this one up because if i got it right it would be SO GREAT . this is the tutorial i watched , by the way . . . it was super useful !

i started working on it at 1pm maybe , and as you can see by the hour on the screenshots ( i just checked and i took the screenshots at night lolz ah well ) it took me the whole day . ougghh . once i got to take a break and eat something , it was time to color stuff . i had fun choosing colors and textures for everything . . . really like that one wallpaper i chose ! and green always looks pretty on everything . also , added that one texture i always use for the skin and i really like how it makes everything look . looks less flat .

i didn't know what i wanted to do with those pictures . i just added one of edgar and his grandma maybe and a random rose . i wanted to make it a butterfly and looking back at it i should've gone with the butterfly but i couldn't get it to look right , bleh .

also , those strings holding the frame weren't supposed to be red but i accidentally drew them in the same layer as the yarn , so when i colored everything the strings also got colored and was too lazy to get them back to normal lolz .

coloring little scri was really fun ! i was planning to draw edgar crawling on the floor originally , as scri described . but i couldn't find a reference i liked and also , it was about time to draw scri in one of these ! it's been a while since he showed up . i just keep drawing edgar but i do find funny that everytime i tried to draw scri on these recently i just fail . DID I GET USED TO DRAW EDGAR AND NOW I CAN'T DRAW SCRI ANYMORE ??????? IDK but that can't be good .

uh , what else . . . coloring everything was a long process but picking colors was still fun . scri's sweater was actually blue at first but i didn't like how it looked so i changed it . . .

getting the yarn in place was actually harder than i expected . I DIDN'T REALLY ADD A BUNCH OF STUFF TO LOOP IT WITH , i wanted to make their room look messier at first but i got lazy . maybe add some clothes on the floor or shoes , i don't knnnnow . . . I JUST DIDN'T WANT TO ADD MORE DETAILS I'M SICK OF THIS DRAWING

i tried to make it just a whole thread of yarn going everywhere but at the end i did add some random pieces because it looked empty , bleh . even know , i feel like the yarn is not noticeable enough and that bugs me off because YARN IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE MAIN THING ON THE PIECE and you can't even see it .

( quick break to say that i'm listening to dusty dirty curse by kikuo and i keep feeling sad because i didn't know the song before going to the concert a month ago , I REMEMBER ENJOYING IT AND STUFF BUT I LISTENED TO IT LIVE AND DIDN'T KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THAT WOULD BE FOR ME IN THE FUTURE . god i only knew its name because zarla told me but god GGGODDD PLEASE TAKE ME BACKKKK PLEASE I CAN ENJOY IT MORE THAN BEFORE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I WAS SO HAPPY BACK THEN

my art is already HARD TO SEE I'D SAY but bleh

i was almost done coloring stuff . . . and sometimes for some reason my csp lags a bit when i try to change to certain brushes . well , i tried to change brushes , my csp freezes , the screen gets black for a second and i'm thinking " please don't crash , please don't crash " then i got a blue screen

fun ! ( fun fact , blue screens used to scare me so much . everything related with technology errors still scares me but last pc i had would crash over and over and over again so i kinda just got used to it lolz . now this one doesn't crash as much . last time it did was because i tried to play minecraft with shaders and it really didn't like that . oh well , where was i . .

i couldn't remember last time i saved and honestly it SCARED ME because i couldn't afford to lose progress back then . it was probably past 11PM at this point . . . i did get why my pc crashed , though . . . i had it turned on since 1PM . i did take breaks and stuff but i didn't turn it off completely ? so it was probably tired . at that point my time with csp opened was more than 11 hours . well . . .

i turn it on again . . . i check the file . . . didn't lose a lot ! i just colored the lamp on the drawer and the calendar lolz . i checked my file though , and i realized that csp actually restored some of the progress for me ! i didn't know it could do that . . . when it comes to the app crashing , i knew i could always trust sai2 . everytime the app crashed , i would open it again and it immediately would be like " hey you didn't save do you want your file back ooorrr . . . . . . . " and i never got that on csp until that ! really appreciated .

didn't know what to do for that calendar , exactly . so i just added that day's date . october 11th !

what else . . . had fun with the lightning and the colors . it was mostly me experimenting . i didn't know that to make for edgar's blanket . . . and well i just love the combination between blue and yellow . so why not throw some stars .

also , that bit of green is supossed to be scri's bed . added some random drawings to the paper sheets on the floor . . .

i searched for a while to find a nice texture to add to the floor . . . most of the ones i found weren't free . and when i finally found one i liked it took foverer to download . i was like PLEASE I JUST NEED TO DO THIS ONE THING

and i think that was all ! i'm really proud of this piece . it's my best piece currently . took around 13 hours with breaks . . . started at 1PM and finished it at 3AM maybe ? took two breaks to eat and shower. i'm used to take this long on pieces but god . it also has like , 300 layers . maybe 200 , i don't know . . . and makes me so much happier knowing that it ( mostly ( came out of my brain and not from a random pinterest reference !

i wish i had a speedpaint and i've been wanting to record speedpaints for these but I ALWAYS FORGET TO PRESS RECORD UGH

with and without filter ! i really , REALLY love this filter . it kinda gives 2016 tumblr vibes . or one of those filters on instagram no one actually uses . Río de Janeiro

as you can see , there's some stuff i cropped out . mostly because it didn't look good . . . those books on the shelf look kinda odd and the window is also throwing me off .

quick comparison ! last time i made a background this complicated was back in 2021 . . . even if it's been a long time since i really tried with one of these it's still way better . i've grown so much as an artist X3

i don't know if i'll work on today's piece , if i'm being honest . . . i think i'll try but i was out all day today and woke up at six . tired . . . was falling asleep in the bus back home until bug by kairiki bear started playing . my eyes just snapped wide open lolz . i really don't want to skip another prompt , ugh . i do enjoy drawing edgar bleeding to death , so that might encourage me just enough lolz . i was also out on saturday , as i already mentioned . didn't do a whole lot . . . i did write a small jake / edgar drabble i know for a fact i WON'T POST because i'm not good with writing !

pics i took today ! aren't i pretty ? also , i told you my shoes were cool !!!!!!!!!!!!

i'll have something to eat for dinner . . . then i'll see what i can do X3

also lol i've been having trouble to TURN MY MONITOR ON and i'm afraid that one of these days i'll try to work on a piece and it won't turn on . ugghh

[unknown-goose]

Raison D’être: The Reason For…

In which anomalies are brought to light, yet there’s still so much unknown

A Transformers:Prime Story

———————————————————————

"I’m not sure if it will be of much help to you, but I suppose there’s no harm in offering a helping hand." Void proposed

"Are you certain you are willing to part with such a treasured relic?" The Prime inquires

"Absolutely. Anything for a noble cause far greater than my own." Zero hesitation in her words

Void then turns around, powers flickering to life in her left hand, coating it in a thick, black, venom-like substance. With her newly formed claws she waves her hand in a sharp diagonal slash through the air, opening a vaguely rectangular portal to The Deep Sea roughly half the size of the average bot. Only a few feet in the distance could it be seen. View mostly clear, its image slowly etching its way through the dark.

It was massive, taking up almost the entire height of the portal. Its sheer size alone drew a number of questions about its origins. Its blade was held at an angle by the sand below. There appeared to be a small, vaguely diamond-shaped cutout in the hilt for what could only assumed to be a gemstone; of which Void had known to be long since lost to time. Despite the missing stone the remainder of this exceptional blade was in pristine condition, appearing as though it had been forged only yesterday. The color however was difficult to discern, muddied by the portals dark haze. It struck Optimus as familiar, but unable to put a pin on how exactly. He quickly decided to wait until he got to hold it before inspecting further.

The Jasper Trio watch in awe from the other side of the room, Miko jogging towards the portal to get a better view despite the words of her peers.

"Is that what the bottom of the ocean looks like!? And just where did that thing come from anyway!?" The young girl jumped in curiousity, not so sneakily peaking out from behind the goddess’s shoulder.

Void chuckles and nods her head yes

"In this portion of it anyway, not all seas are created equal." She smiles through her words, bringing her right index finger to her lips to signal it as a secret. Selectively ignoring the second question to hide her lack of knowledge.

"Awesome!!"

Miko smiles wide before running back to her human friends, crafting up all kinds of theories in her mind.

Void once again faces the portal, a split second away from stepping inside and retrieving the sword when the booming, authoritative voice of the Deep Sea calls out—

“You may not proceed. This relics removal is prohibited.”

Void’s face crinkles in both insult and confusion. “And just why is that?” She demands. “You haven’t given it a single thought for millennia, and neither of us have any use for it.”

“But we do need it, a lot more than you know.” The Deep Sea’s tone was less aggravated and more protective this time, almost concerned.

“I find that hard to believe given its blade has been stuck in the sand since the dawn of time. But clearly you have a story to tell. Don’t think for a second that I ignored your tone.” Her response was rightfully bitter, given there were supposed to be no secrets between the two as they are one and the same. No punches held back.

The ocean sighs as if defeated, resigned to whatever fate its following words may bring. “I suggest you take a seat my dear friend, it’s about time I disclose you of our only secret from you.”

The Autobots turn to each other before turning back to the scene before them, questioning if they should be there in the now uncomfortable silence. Void then turns to face Optimus, the brief eye contact and a gentle nod signaling that it is ok for them to stay. “Regardless of what the outcome is, I believe it is for the best that you all know.” A gentile smile gracing the goddess’s features.

“As you wish.” The Prime returns in kind, briefly returning the same gestures

“Alright then.” The Deep Sea speaks up “Now let’s Begin.”

“You see, this is not your average blade. This was once known as the Prism Nebula, a sword forged among the stars containing a fragment of what Cybertronians know as the All Spark. For reasons it would not disclose, it fell through the atmosphere, landing itself in our hands. Despite the All Spark granting it a consciousness of its own we would coexist in peaceful silence for millennia. Until one day it proposed a deal of equivalent exchange: That I would inherit the power of the All Spark fragment in exchange for the blades eternal protection. I quickly agreed, restoring it to its former glory but leaving my new power untouched until the evolution of mankind. It was then I used that power to create you my dear. That is the truth of its disappearance, because it gave everything it had to help make you, you. Not only can it not be drawn from the sand because of my oath of protection, but with the fragment now gone from its hilt it is now rendered a shadow of its former self in terms of power. Even if it could leave my presence consequence free, I am afraid it would be of little use to you now. I sincerely apologize for crushing any hopes you might have had.”

The entire room was floored. The base was so littered with silence you could hear a pin drop in the next room over. Optimus Primes’ suspicions were now confirmed, it was indeed the weapon of untold power that went missing not long after the Cybertronian Civil War began. All historical records claimed it had been destroyed in an unknown accident and yet here is was right before him.

Meanwhile Void had been shaken to her very core. To think that only a few short years ago she had learned of planets other then her own, so now being told she only existed was because of a stone from another planet was far beyond anything she ever expected.

“…But, how? Why…W-Why?….Was, I just a tool to you all this time? Is that why you waited so long to tell me?” She could barely get the words out let alone think, but she wasn’t going to let it stop her from knowing more. No matter how much it hurt.

The Deep Sea considers its next words carefully, trying to soften the blow as much as possible. There was really no easy way of putting this. “Truth be told my friend, I hadn’t intended to wait to long. The only reason I waited at all was because I was afraid of what would happen if I disclosed this too soon. Prior to your existence I had zero experience of handling or creating a being so close to being human such as yourself. I was concerned that telling you right away you would reject your calling, abandon humanity and seek out a planet that’s not yours to roam.”

Voids heart shattered at that last phrase, veins gone cold and body numb.

“I didn’t want to even consider the course of action I would be required to take if that came to be. Otherworldly pact be damned, you couldn’t give me the planet to end a being of my own creation!…I just didn’t want to lose you. It was a childish concern of the past, I know far better than that now…” It trails off, leaving a rather odd sense of melancholy to settle though out the room.

In that moment the goddess’s emptiness quickly turned to a disgusted rage. “How…How fucking dare you! From day fucking one I made my intentions clear as day that I would stick by your side till the end of time! Even with the knowledge of our slowly impending doom I wouldn’t dare turn my back on humanity until it was time! My roaming the earth’s surface for the last 20 years hasn’t changed a damn thing! How on earth could you even begin to think so little of me after carving me in your own image…” The longer she went on all that rage slowly warped it way into despair.

Fists clenched, Void stared daggers into the concrete below. Unable to bear the pain of looking through the portal any longer. Turning her back towards the one who she considered to be family, shutting her eyes tight in order to fight back the tears.

“I sincerely apologize for not seeing that sooner, I never intended to hurt you. Those concerns died out millennia ago when you swore you would protect our home with your life. I am forever grateful that the All Spark brought you to me my closest friend. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me—.”

Exhausted, Void spits back—“That’s enough!” The portal closing rapidly with a loud snap of her fingers. “We’ll just have to see about that now won’t we.”

Both the Autobots and the children look to her in a mix shock of and concern. Void takes a few deep breaths amongst the silence before addressing them, attempting to save face even if for a moment.

“I apologize you had to hear that everyone, had I known it was going to take that kind of turn I would have moved the conversation elsewhere. I will be absent for sometime, but if the need calls for it I’m sure you will know where to find me.” With a passive wave of her hand Void turns to walk down one of the many long, empty corridors of the abandoned military base. The shadows casted masking her from sight only a few mere seconds later.

—————————————————————————————-

Void had spent the next several days dissociating, laying in the middle of the floor in the one the many empty storage rooms. Most of the rooms in the building had gone unused simply because the bots were too big to comfortably fit, assuming they could enter it to begin with. Retroactively this created a number of wonderful spots for Void to hide in. The kids would often end up using them when playing hide and seek too. With her sense of time once again warped beyond comprehension, for the brief moment she had clarity it had amazed her that no one had found her by now. Those moments never lasted long though, slowly deluding her mental state back into the sludge that got her here in the first place. Thankfully she lacked the basic self care needs humans and cybertronians did otherwise she would be in far worse condition.

She would have to go back home and talk with the Deep Sea at some point, but for now this was what she needed. Nothing but just her, her thoughts, and the concrete below. Or at least what she thought she needed, until a concerned yet friendly face enters the doorway.

[PART 1] FIN